Hunched
Trust the hips.
Shakira wasn’t wrong: they don’t lie.
I don’t trust mine.
Means I hunch my shoulders when I’m doing kettlebell cleans.
Trying to chase the weight.
Leverage it into place.
If I just stand up straight instead?
The bell lands where it’s supposed to.
It’s weightless until it’s in the rack
Still.
I hunch.
Not trusting that I’ve done the work.
That I’m where I’m supposed to be in time.
In space.
In life.
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